I knew it was Isabella. Who else would leave a threat like that under my foot? But she wasn’t in my gym class. I stared at the other students running back up to the gym. It had to have been one of them. Right? And the only one I really knew was Cupcake.
“Cupcake!” I yelled and tried to catch up to him, but my stupid feet still hurt.
It was like he heard me and started running faster.
By the time I reached the gym he was already running up to the boy’s locker room. Son of a bitch. A few students turned and started laughing at me as I walked toward the girls’ locker room. Luckily I didn’t need to change, because the laughter and pointing only got worse in there. I grabbed my backpack out of my gym locker and got out of there as fast as I could.
Had they seen Cupcake leave the note? Was that why they were laughing? But the laughter continued to swirl around me in the hall too.
I kept my eyes on my shoes as I hurried to lunch. The last thing I needed was for Isabella to catch me in the hallway. I’d thought more about death in the past year than I ever thought I would. But today I wasn’t concerned with someone else dying. I was concerned about my own life.
The crowded cafeteria made me breathe a little easier. And I made a mental note to remember to write in my new journal. Today was a good example of how Isabella was the reason I was getting panic attacks. Maybe my dad would believe me with written proof. It was Isabella and only Isabella that made me panic.
I glanced over at the Untouchables’ table, wondering if that was where I should be sitting. But Isabella was perched there with her minions surrounding her. Her eyes locked with mine and she burst out laughing. All of her friends turned too, like their evil minds were in tune with their master’s.
I quickly looked away. I didn’t want to see them all smile in unison. Or worse…do that thing where they pretended to slice their throats with their hands. My heart was pounding in my chest. Please don’t let Matt sit at that table. If he did…there was no way in hell I’d be joining him.
I caught a glimpse of the Hunters a few tables over, laughing with some guys I didn’t know. James looked up at me. I thought he might wave. Or laugh at me like everyone else seemed to be doing. But instead he just lowered his eyebrows slowly. Like the sight of me here pissed him off.
I turned away. I didn’t care why James was frowning or why everyone else seemed to be laughing. Jokes about me being a prostitute didn’t make me laugh. Besides, I had more important things to worry about. Like the fact that Isabella was 100% still planning on killing me.
Matt would know what to do. I scanned a few more tables until I found the Caldwells. Matt and Mason were both sitting at my usual table. They’d brought a few football players with them. Kennedy was already sitting there too and she waved me over. I slid into my usual seat, but it felt anything but normal with the laughter behind me only growing.
Matt looked down at me. He opened his mouth to say something, but Kennedy cut him off.
“Is that some kind of weird new fashion statement?” Kennedy asked.
“What?” I looked down at Matt’s varsity jacket.
“Not that. You look amazing in your fiancé’s jacket. I’m talking about the bullseye symbol on your forehead.”
I lifted my hand to my forehead, and when I pulled my fingers down they were bright red. The exact same red as the note. What the hell? “Am I bleeding?”
Matt grabbed my hand. “No. It’s…lipstick? Maybe?” He stopped me when I went to reach for my forehead again.
“Why is there a bullseye on my forehead?” I looked over at Isabella who was laughing with her minions.
“You didn’t do it?” Kennedy asked.
“Why would I put a target symbol on my forehead in red lipstick? I fell asleep in gym and there was this crazy note…”
“I can get it off,” Kennedy said. She poured some of her water bottle onto a napkin, leaned forward and started blotting my forehead.
“Did you say something about a note?” Matt asked.
At the exact same time, I looked over at Isabella. That creepy smile spread over her face as she stared back at me. She slowly shook her head and then lifted her finger to her lips. I was far away from her, but I could practically hear the chilling “shh.” And I was pretty sure there was an “or else” attached to it based on the wicked glint in her eye and the way she ran her fingers across her throat again.
I swallowed hard. What was she planning on doing if I told someone about the note? I thought about what Miller had said. To text him if Isabella talked to me at all. But she hadn’t technically said a word to me. And she’d made it seem like she would definitely kill me if I told anyone.
“Baby,” Matt said. “If Isabella’s bothering you…”
“No. Nothing like that.” I tried to focus on my own table and not on Isabella’s. I didn’t want her to slit my throat for tattling on her. “It’s just lame that she claimed your table,” I said. My cover up was as lame as the fact that Isabella stole their table, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“I know, it sucks,” Kennedy said. “I can’t believe Isabella won the Untouchables’ table. Shouldn’t you guys walk over there and kick her to the curb?”
“We’d rather be sitting here with you two,” Matt said and smiled down at me. “It’s just a stupid table.” He pushed some of my hair away from where Kennedy was scrubbing my face. “Was it Isabella who drew that on your forehead?” he asked.
I shook my head. It wasn’t a lie. I didn’t actually think she’d done it. For some reason, I’d blamed Cupcake, but that didn’t make any sense either. He was the one with a bullseye on his junk, and if I ever got an opportunity I was going to kick him right there for what he’d done to Kennedy.